


A Christmas Scene

by robotunicorncastiel



Category: Football RPF, German NT RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Gen, M/M, Schweinski Secret Santa 2014
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 10:28:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2847707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robotunicorncastiel/pseuds/robotunicorncastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bastian finds himself at Heathrow Airport on December 23, having to babysit a 6-year-old while his parents discuss a divorce.</p><p>Written for the Schweinski Secret Santa 2014.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Christmas Scene

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Let's pretend for a moment these are not real people but just characters in a show about football. Even then they'd still not be mine.

VIP lounges are usually a quiet oasis in any airport, but it's Heathrow and it's Christmas' Eve's Eve, so even the rich are justifiably feeling restless. In normal circumstances, Bastian would have scoffed at them, ignoring the hustle-bustle in favor of his beloved headphones and the latest airplane magazine. His current circumstances, however, are far from normal.

"Uncle Basti, can we have ice cream?"

He doesn't dare looking at Louis beside him, warily knowing the kid will be putting on his best Puppy Eyes. "It's -3°C outside. It's not ice cream weather," he answers, eyes trained on a perfume ad.

"But it's warm in here! And they have hot fudge. Pretty please?"

Bastian accidentaly turns to him. There they are. The eyes. He sighs. "We're supposed to stay here, pal."

"I won't tell Daddy, I promise."

He looks around the room, at the executives and local celebrities and their bored teenage kids, all pretending they're not seeing each other, and laments that his agent isn't there to save him from this mess. Sure, the paps knew he'd been in London for the weekend, and someone somewhere must have already captured him on camera as soon as he arrived at the airport; but it was one thing to be seen alone, and another very different thing to be seen with his best friend's six-year-old in tow. He'd rather keep the yellow press rumor mill running at its usual pace - they knew Anna was also in London, so it was just a matter of putting two and two together. Bastian wouldn't move a finger to dispel their assumptions, they served him just fine. (That was in fact the basis of his whole thing with Anna, bless her heart. He should buy the girl a new racket as a gift for putting up with this bullshit.) If he were to be seen with Louis, however, just the two of them, particularly after rumors that the Podolskis' marriage was treading water... he wasn't sure which questions it would raise, but it would raise questions, and he didn't feel like dealing with them just yet.

Plus, it's 2014. The kid wouldn't have to worry about keeping it a secret - his daddy would probably find out via Instagram, two minutes after the deed was done.

"Why don't we wait until Nassim comes back and then you go with him, hm?"

That seems to do the trick, but then the boy turns his gaze to his feet, pouting. "Nassim always takes me everywhere already. I don't want to go with him. I want to go with you."

Damn all the Podolski men and their emotional blackmail.

Bastian looks around again, aware that what he's about to do is going to earn him an earful from his PR people. He lets out another deep sigh, drops his magazine on the empty chair nearby and takes the headphones off his neck, stuffing them and his iPod in his duffel bag. He mentally traces the shortest and less crowded route to the nearest Ben & Jerry's stand as he gets up and offers a hand to Louis, rolling his eyes. "Fine. But just one scoop. And you better eat like a big boy on the plane, or else your mom's going to hate me even more."

Louis beams mischievously, his father through and through. "Mama doesn't hate you. She just doesn't like football."

Yeah, I wish, Bastian thinks, but he says nothing. No reason to mess with the kid's head even more. They both had enough troubles as it was. He pulls his cap a little further down and does the same to Louis' - not that it will do them any good, since it's one one of Poldi's custom "AHA" ones, but the gesture is already second nature to him.

They walk hand in hand in silence, and Bastian is happy to find out most people aren't even looking their way. Even the cashier at the ice cream stand is so busy she doesn't bat an eyelid at the unusual pair - and he's pretty sure she recognized the name in his credit card, even if his face didn't look familiar.

They get their ice creams (he caved in and bought himself a scoop of cookies 'n cream) and sit down on a bench facing the airport's nativity scene. Around them the people come and go, ignoring their presence. Despite all capitalist attempts to destroy the spirit of Christmas, they still seem to be more interested in enjoying a happy moment with their loved ones than taking non-consensual pictures of a sports star. It's a silly thing, but it's enough to renew Bastian's faith in humanity. Or maybe he's just extra sensitive these days.

He takes a look at Louis and notices the boy has stopped eating and is mixing the half-melted chocolate ice cream in the cup. "Mama and daddy are breaking up, aren't they," he says before Bastian could ask him what was wrong. It's not quite a question; he just wants a confirmation.

"I don't know, dude," Bastian lies. He knows Lukas and Monika are talking to their lawyers right now, smoothing details over some of their joint property in England before the office enters their holiday recess. He knows; Lukas has shared every ugly detail with him, things not even his therapist knows about. Bastian reminds himself this is not about him, that his relationship with Lukas is maybe just the tip of the iceberg, but he can't help feeling bad about it.

(He's also mad at Lukas for making their little weekend escapade become an awkward family reunion How would he know Monika and Louis were coming to London and then going back to Germany with Lukas for Christmas? He'd never expect anyone with an ounce of common sense to discuss divorce matters on December 23rd. Kudos to Lukas for still managing to surprise him after ten years, but really.)

"It's ok," Louis shrugs. "The parents of my friend Jens broke up when he was three. Now he has two Christmases, so it's cool." He scoops some of his liquefied ice cream, then looks up at Bastian. "Can we spend next Christmas with you, uncle Basti? Daddy and I, I mean."

The Podolskis are full of surprises these days, it seems. "I, uh. I'd love that. We'll think of something."

"Daddy would be happy. He's always happy around you." Louis continues to consume his ice cream soup, taking twice as long to finish it as he would if it were in its normal texture. Bastian focuses on his own dessert, glad that there's something to distract him as he's dumbstruck at the boy's perception. He'll have to talk to Lukas later to find out exactly how much the kid knows about their relationship. 

They throw away their empty cups and come closer to the nativity scene, checking the intricate wood patterns and the lighting effects. He takes out his phone and takes a picture of Louis surrounded by little wooden lambs, which he promptly sends to Lukas with a smile, knowing either him or Monika are going to scold them for it and not really caring at all.

They stay there in silence for a moment, hand in hand, until Louis hugs him from the side and says, "Merry Christmas, uncle Basti."

Bastian scratches the boy's nape. In normal circumstances, he would have worried about the boy's sticky chocolate-covered fingers in close contact with his expensive jeans. Instead, he thinks of family life, of Lukas and Louis and Monika and Sarah, and he can't help feeling a pang of guilt followed by a warm sensation deep in his chest. "Merry Christmas, kid."

His phone vibrates in his pocket; it's Lukas answering his message.

_Where did u 2 go? We're at terminal 3 btw_

He considers sending him the coordinates to that wing of the airport, but then thinks better of it. From the corner of his eye, he can see the pair of girls giggling as they look at him and Louis, their phones dangerously pointed at the two of them. Not the best way to come out to the world, Bastian supposes. Not when Lukas' divorce is not finished yet; not on Christmas' Eve's Eve.

"Time to go back, buddy," he says, pulling on Louis' little hand and adjusting his AHA cap again. He spares one last look at the airport's Christmas decorations before walking back to the VIP lounge. Maybe next year, he thinks to himself. Maybe next year.

**Author's Note:**

> It's three in the morning here and I'm running against the clock to post it before it's too late, so yeah - totally unbetaed and probably full of things that will make me cringe in the morning. 
> 
> My secret Santa's only request was for cute/fluff. I'm not sure I can pull off cute/fluff, much less in a last minute attempt, so I'll just hope you're not terribly disappointed! :x


End file.
